


dreamers electric

by enjolraes



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 13:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6705586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enjolraes/pseuds/enjolraes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ronan was laying on his stomach, feeling Adam's breath dancing on the back of his neck, his body a livewire as Adam traced the ink of his tattoo, those beautiful fucking fingers skating down his spine. He almost couldn't stand it, his heart was more alive than it had been in years.</p><p>Adam was every Hail Mary, every night dreaming, every gasoline scented race down the highway, the windows down, the bass booming. Adam was every bad thing he had encountered turned face up, light beaming down upon them. Adam was all of his nightmares vanquished from the back of his skull.</p><p>Ronan hadn't had one sleepless night since Adam moved into the Barns. He hadn't had one nightmare either, his mind happy and cleared of all worry for the first time since Niall had died. Here, Ronan was giddy, his teeth all bared in a smile instead of a grimace. His sharpness was dulled down enough to peer out from and not impale himself upon. He was happy. </p><p>What a glorious sight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dreamers electric

The night was hot. 

Some part of it, most of it, was electric, charged with the frantic energy of Ronan's electronica pounding and pulsing through the BMW's speaker. It was alive and thudding and the sound of the baseline of Adam's heartbeat, thumping steadily away on the left side of his chest. Ronan was sitting in the driver's seat, head nodding faintly to the beats of his speakers. The bass kicked. 

Adam gazed over at him, his eyes hungry and timid at the same time. It had been a week since Gansey and Blue and Henry had left trekking across the country: heading west, to explore terrain that wasn't supernaturally charged with the energy of the ley line, that wasn't riddled with magic and ghosts and sleeping kings. Henry was narrating the adventure with 200 second long snapchats of the three of them in diners, mansions, motel rooms, but most of them occurred in the road, the unsteady tempo of the Pig's driving a rumble that still felt like home inside Adam's chest. Blue texted him at least ten times a day, usually detailing Gansey's Ganseyness with her usual fiery tone. Gansey sent both of them postcards almost every day, his handwriting soaring and skating across the edges of the page in every direction. Adam missed them dearly, and he knew Ronan did too. But both of them were alive here, excited and electric, kings of Henrietta in a different way than they had been before.

The car stopped, Ronan's foot stomping down on the brake, and the right side of Adam's face was illuminated with the dull glow of a red stoplight. Adam jolted out of his nostalgic reverie as Ronan looked over to him, his eyes as hungry as Adam's heart felt. 

In one fluid motion, so fast Adam couldn't register what was happening until it did, Ronan unbuckled his seatbelt and slid over the center console and was suddenly straddling Adam in the passenger seat, his lips an inch away from Adam's.

Adam immediately closed the gap between them, his mind racing far beyond what he was doing. In a familiar echo, it reminded him of how Cabeswater used to flow over his thoughts, calm and soothing, making everything he did fluid and continuous. The calm serenity Adam felt with Cabeswater wrapping around his mind was a cousin to how he felt with Ronan: the comfort, the rightness of it mirrored how he used to feel with Cabeswater. It was easy, even though this was much more of a want waning and waxing inside of his heart. 

It seemed impossible that they hadn't spent every waking moment since they first met doing this. Ronan's lips on his were something more than any dream he'd ever had; any want and need that warred inside of him at peace; his whole world colliding into the sun, except he liked it here, gliding on the sunrays with Ronan, hot but full of serenity. 

"You got a fucking mouth on you, Parrish," Ronan said wickedly, smile glorious, when they pulled away. Adam thrilled when he realized Ronan was breathless, that he made Ronan Lynch breathless. His heart couldn't quite manage it, and it burst inside of his chest. Ronan pressed his lips to Adam's once more, like they were something holy, and then swung himself easily back over to the driver's side. Adam realized a split second too late that there was a line of cars behind them, beeping and honking, and the light had turned green.

When had it turned green?

Adam knew he ought to feel embarrassed, that holding up a whole line of summer-hot traffic while he made out with his boyfriend at a too-green stoplight was something that would have embarrassed him before. But now, he felt his life in vivid flashes, all Ronan and heat and lips and happiness, all dreaming and scheming and living and loving. Now, Adam regarded that constant sense of embarrassment that used to hang over his shoulders like the weight of the world as nothing but a distant memory.

In the driver's seat, Ronan was grinning recklessly. Adam stood on the edge of that smile and peered into the vast pit of greatness and pure happiness. Ronan was unprotected here, unprotected and wild. This was how Adam liked him best. 

Ronan was laughing as he turned the music up and they shot off into the dark Henrietta night, the heat pressing against the BMW. Ronan loved this recklessness inside of himself as well, and loved it best when Adam was affected by it too. Holding up a line of traffic because he was holding up Adam with his touch was just the kind of wicked pleasure Ronan got all of his excitement from. 

The music was vile and filthy and far too loud, but Adam sighed back into his seat with ease. In the darkness, Ronan's hand found his, and tangled Adam's fingers in his. Ronan glanced over at him, and Adam could feel the way Ronan's heart bounded while his hands were in Adam's. Adam's hands were something holy for Ronan, his veins strong and bountiful, his knuckles wide, his elegant fingers stretching down from them, beautiful and long. Ronan had matter-of-factly confessed all his dirty thoughts about Adam's hands before, both of them boxing up Adam's apartment in St. Agnes. Adam's heart jolted as Ronan told him all about how he worshipped his hands, how he'd get on his knees for those hands, and right afterwards, Adam had pinned Ronan against the wall, a moan escaping his lips that he didn't even try to conceal. 

Both of them had heaved with lust and love as they pulled away, and Ronan's smile bounded across his face, wild and pure. 

"Damn, Parrish," Ronan had said, his grin dangerous. "What a very unholy thing to do inside of these holy walls. I like your style." 

"Yeah," Adam added lamely, his fingers skating across his own lips in wonder. "I'm probably going to hell."

"You're a fucking magician," Ronan had said, grabbing him by his shirtfront. "You've been doing very ungodly things for over a year. You already had no chance of getting into heaven." 

"You gonna join me there, or is the pious man you are gonna get in the way of all that sin you have yet to unleash?" Adam breathed.

Ronan grinned again. How Adam wanted to live forever inside of that smile. "Hear it's a highway to hell," he said flippantly. "I really fucking like to drive."

 

They ended up back at the Barns, like they did every night. Opal stayed out in the fields most of the time, especially when the sun fell over the hills. Adam and Ronan were very present inside the house, dreaming or kissing or both. She decided early on that they were far too loud for her to handle, and so she spent it outside with all of Niall's dreamed animals, shaking the ground the same way he had, and Ronan's dreamed magic, keeping the place alight and alive. 

Ronan pretended to want to live in the darkness for so long. The Barns was alight and alive, just like his heart now. He never wanted to leave again. 

 

That night, both of them ended up in Ronan's bed, legs and arms interlinked. They'd always been a multi headed animal, with Gansey anchoring them into place. But now they'd grown even closer, and they were both glad for Gansey's distance, especially at night time. Here, they were allowed to be animalistic and wild and alive and together in ways they would have never dared to be with Gansey in the next room over. 

With Adam intertwined with Ronan's limbs, his beautiful thumb stroking over Ronan's, Ronan let his thoughts roam to the first time he and Gansey had talked. It was in the cafeteria in Aglionby, Gansey's first week at school. Ronan had been stuck with how Gansey seemed to transcend time and space, his smiles glorious, his posture kingly. Though Gansey didn't demand attention, it found him, rolling off his shoulders, attracted to the magnet of his glided smile.

Ronan, who was a much more alive and sinuous version of himself back then, had swung his large frame into the seat opposite Gansey at lunch. Gansey, who was given a wide berth by the whispering Aglionby population, his nose stuck in a book with a cover written in Old English, didn't register that Ronan Lynch was in front of him, still more human than teeth,

"Hey, man," Ronan said, and a grin danced inexplicably across his sharp face. "That's a hell of a title. A mouthful. A fucking tongue twister."

Gansey looked up, and his expression had shifted, almost imperceptibly. But Ronan was experienced in reading other people, even without liking the people in question. Then he grinned, and his face went back to being glorious and kingly, a look that Ronan would soon come to know as the Richard Gansey brand. 

"Hell of a book, too," Gansey said, putting it down. "But it's required reading." 

Ronan's eyebrow raced up the left side of his face. "I don't think we have a class here on how to read gibberish." 

Gansey's mouth quirked, almost hesitantly. "I'm Gansey." 

"I know, dude," Ronan answered, but not unkindly. "I'm Ronan Lynch." 

Gansey leaned forward conspiratorially, his eyes dead set against Ronan's. "Ronan Lynch, do you believe in magic?" 

Ronan's heart lurched. This is how he knew he and Gansey would get along. "Probably more than you do, man." 

Gansey's smile, now unnerved and reckless, spilled easily across his face. He was positively alight. "What do you know about dead Welsh kings?"

Ronan's smile matched Gansey's in glee. "Fuck-all dude. Teach me." 

 

In the months to follow, it was Ronan and Gansey against the world, a two headed creature that was equal parts immortal and youthful. They fell into a rhythm, quickly and simply, like it was all they'd waited for their whole lives. They hiked and they schemed and they spent sleepless nights at Gansey's new purchase of Monmouth Manufacturing, tracing lineage and roots and magic and energy. 

When Adam joined them, it was post-Niall and pre-coming out. Ronan said it one night, too honest for it to even seem like a joke, as he and Gansey worked on the early stages of his miniature Henrietta model. 

"I'm gay," Ronan had said, blunt and honest, and Gansey, who was simultaneously in tune with all of the world and oblivious to certain truths of it, had just lent him a soft smile. 

"I know," Gansey said, no disgusted reaction, no terror that Ronan was going to kiss him. In fact, Ronan didn't want to kiss Gansey, but that didn't stop the immediate wrench of others when Ronan had first told them. "I hope I'm a good wingman. Dating isn't exactly my forte though, I must warn you." 

"Gansey, man," Ronan had said. "You're dating a dead Welsh king." 

"Sleeping Welsh king," Gansey had corrected, a smile dancing across his face, illuminating the both of them through the night. "Although, you have a point." 

 

Now, Ronan was laying on his stomach, feeling Adam's breath dancing on the back of his neck, his body a livewire as Adam traced the ink of his tattoo, those beautiful fucking fingers skating down his spine. He almost couldn't stand it, his heart was more alive than it had been in years.

Adam was every Hail Mary, every night dreaming, every gasoline scented race down the highway, the windows down, the bass booming. Adam was every bad thing he had encountered turned face up, light beaming down upon them. Adam was all of his nightmares vanquished from the back of his skull.

Ronan hadn't had one sleepless night since Adam moved into the Barns. He hadn't had one nightmare either, his mind happy and cleared of all worry for the first time since Niall had died. Here, Ronan was giddy, his teeth all bared in a smile instead of a grimace. His sharpness was dulled down enough to peer out from and not impale himself upon. He was happy. 

What a glorious sight. 

Adam leaned in to whisper something in his ear. It was in Latin, and maybe not filthy, but Ronan interpreted it that way. He grinned, all teeth and heartbeat. Adam above him was beautiful and unreal in the moonlight. His freckled danced across his face, his jawline jutted sharply into the night. Adam Parrish was a wonder of nerves and synapses and ethereality, and he was more worthy of goodness than anyone Ronan had ever known. His heart yearned.

 

"A month until you have to leave," Ronan said, and his heart dropped. He hadn't meant to say it, but he had.

Adam's face darkened. "Don't remind me." Adam was excited about college, of course he was. Ivy League schools of his choosing across the board, admitted under sheer merit and hard work, a full ride scholarship to any place of his choosing. Adam had wanted to leave Henrietta forever, a prison to him in the same way it was a kingdom to Ronan. But now, there was so much more magic in it, and not just in their hands and minds. Adam and Ronan were a magic so untouched by any other kind they'd experienced, and their energy was alive and kinetic and pushing and yearning. Neither one of them wanted to be separated from the other. 

"What will you do if your roommate's hot?" Ronan asked flippantly, but his heart waited in limbo. He could feel it about to drop off a cliff.

"I won't even see him," Adam assured him, pressing his lips to the crook of Ronan's neck. 

"What if he wants to fuck you?" 

"I'll tell him how flattered I am, but I have a very hot boyfriend waiting for me back home," Adam crooned, face centimeters from Ronan. "Besides, I doubt he'll want to fuck me."

"I'll kick his ass either way," Ronan said, both elated and offended. "Who wouldn't want to fuck you?"

At this, Adam smiled, and Ronan's heart soared. How he loved this smile, unsheltered and alive. How he wanted to live inside of it. 

Outside of them, the world turned. The heat of the night cooled off enough that sleeping wasn't a sticky sweaty mess, but Ronan and Adam created plenty of their own. After the year they'd had, they should have been exhausted, but their dreams ran wild in time with their heartbeats. They were alive and electric and incredible, and they created enough magic that the valley overflowed with it. Here, they were one soul in two bodies, and they were vibrant, and they were alive, and they were immortal.


End file.
